


Cigarettes and Snake skin boots

by DG137



Category: Fables (Willingham) - All Media Types, Fables - Willingham, The Wolf Among Us
Genre: M/M, mentions or possibly sex in later chapters maaaybe, spoilers for the game in parts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-17
Updated: 2014-10-15
Packaged: 2018-02-09 06:07:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1971786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DG137/pseuds/DG137
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Collection of short works, maybe one of these will be expanded into something bigger.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Gren remembers being drunk.

He remembers stumbling out of the bar.

He even remembers bumping into the sheriff, telling him to “fuck off” in his slurred drawl right before throwing up all over the wet pavement.

He **does not** remember how he got into the sheriffs bed, hell he doesn't even remember walking there. Gren does a slow check of himself and is relieved to find all of his clothes, aside from his shoes, are still on.

 

**Thank God.**

 

At the very least that means that they didn't do it. Looking around Grendel realizes that he's actually alone, the big bad wolf nowhere to be seen. Rolling off of the bed Grendel trudges towards the bathroom, he emerges a little later a bit more awake but not any less in a bad mood. Fuck he has one hell of a hangover and his mouth is filled with a stale taste. He doesn't have it in him though to be enough of a bastard to use Bigby's toothbrush. Plus that's kind of gross. 

The smell of coffee is wafting into the bedroom now, drawing Gren out of the room reluctantly with it's seductive aroma. Coffee brewing means that Bigby's up and about. So there goes grabbing his shoes and just sneaking out the door. Looking around Gren can see that unfortunately the Sheriff is not living as high as a life as Gren might have hoped. At least if he was then he might have been able to use that against Bigby in some way.

Shuffling a bit further into the living room allows Gren to see a pillow and blanket that have been left on a beaten up recliner. So Bigby slept in the living room then. Like a fucking gentleman. Honestly that sort of pisses Gren off, who does the Sheriff think he is? Acting like he's better than what he actually is? Giving Grendel his bed while he takes the living room chair.

"Gren," speak of the fucking devil.

Grendel looks to the left and finds Bigby leaning against the wall, a cup of coffee in each hand.

 _"Sheriff,"_  he is all he says back, it's clear though that there stuff left unsaid. Rude remarks and insults that don't quite make it out. For a long couple of seconds they stare each other down. 

"Coffee?" Bigby asks, extending the cup like it's some sort of olive branch and honestly..fuck him. Fuck his generosity. Fuck him and his stupid steady gaze, like he's sizing Gren up. Fuck him and fuck him a fourth time because that coffee is winning him over. 

A desire to chase off a hangover and leave as soon as possible wins out over his desire to tell Bigby off. Gren reaches to take the cup, keeping his eyes locked with Bigby's. He makes certain to ignore the way that their fingers brush when Bigby relinquishes the cup to him. 

"Not a damn word about what happened last night,  _Sheriff."_ Grendel warns before he starts to drink. 

Across from him Bigby just huffs. "You're welcome." 

_Honestly. Fuck the Sheriff._

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Follow up to chapter 1.

Bigby Wolf, honest to God, had just been trying to take a short cut home when he bumped into Grendel. Being a little strapped for cash, being the Sheriff wasn’t exactly the highest paying job, he had decided to walk home. Which was fine, nothing wrong with a walk, _other than the smell of the cityt,_ but nah he was fine with a walk.

At least he had been, until the dark clouds that had been hanging overhead all day decided then and there that there would be no more a perfect time to rain. So Bigby had taken a short cut, just a small cut through an alleyway. He hadn’t expected to run into anyone considering how heavy it was starting to come down. But there was Grendel, leaned up against the wall, body swaying from what was. From the smell of things he’d had one too many beers.

 _“Sheriff,”_ Gren slurred. Lifting a heavy glass mug of all things to toast him.

“Grendel.” Bigby  took a moment to examine the empty mug that he was holding. “Is that from the Trip Trap? Did you take one of Holly’s’ mugs?”  Prompted by all the questioning Gren looked down and seemed surprised that he was actually holding the mug.

“Well shit! The fuck did I get this?” Gren asked out loud. “Fuck. Holly’s not going to be happy I took this,” he said laughing a little before resting his head against the brick wall behind him.  “Say Bigby, say…” Grendel waved at the Sheriff, trying to coerce him to come closer. “S’it true what they say? That you’re mom fucked the north wind?” Gren laughed at the last part, Bigby just scowled.

“Why don’t you shut up and go home Gren? Or back to the Trip Trap? Holly probably wants her mug back.”

Grendel’s mood almost immediately did a 180. “Don’t you fuckin talk about Holly, you fuckin don’t know shiit! You fuckin- you fuck…fuck yo-“ Gren pushed himself off the wall and made to punch at him only he never got there. Not about five seconds after Gren righted himself he puked, all over the wet pavement. The smell made Bigby’s nose crinkle in disgust, so he lit a cigarette to combat it and waited for Gren to stop.

Gren coughed, getting the last of it out of him before going back to leaning against the wall. “Don’t fuckin…talk about Holly like you got a right…after what you did. You fuck.”

“And what the fuck did I do?” Bigby asked, getting irritated. If Gren had a point to get to then he had better fucking get to it.

“You could have fuckin killed him…after everything he did why the fuck didn’t you?” Gren demanded.

So it **was** about the Crooked man then. “You think it was easy? Letting him get off on just being locked up?” Bigby bared his teeth a little. Letting the Crooked Man live had not been what he wanted to do, but he had a duty to the people of Fabletown. “We need to be better than what he was, than what Crane was. That means making sure people meet justice, and justice doesn’t always mean tearing apart someone.” Even if some part of him had wanted to.

That seemed to be the thing that shut Gren up, leaving the two to stand there in silence, Gren leaning against the wall while Bigby watched him. It went on until it started to get awkward, then Grendel went and thankfully broke the quiet.

“The fuck are you looking at?” He asked when he noticed the Sheriff staring.

“A drunk.” Bigby said plainly.

That gave Gren pause for thought, as he stood there in the rain Bigby could see that he seemed to be hovering between punching the sheriff or laughing. Finally the tension burst as laughter bubbled up from deep within Grendels chest.  “Fuckin Christ sheriff.”  Gren said, pushing off the wall despite shaky legs.

“Fuckin Christ.” He said one last time before walking three steps, and planting himself right into the pavement face first. Bigby stared down at Gren for a long moment, he entertained the thought of leaving the other before pushing it away. Sighing, he stooped and grabbed up Gren and the mug, before dutifully dragging them both back to his apartment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here's the tag on to chapter 1.


End file.
